


Hero Nonetheless

by outlawed_to_the_stars



Series: Short Stories [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Historical, Medieval, Sword Fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24308830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outlawed_to_the_stars/pseuds/outlawed_to_the_stars
Summary: Out of the ashes rose a hero. Of course, not quickly. The ragged inhale of breath only lead to coughing. Dirt and soot streaked across his face and clothes, the air thick with ash. Eyes fluttering, he slowly came to awareness, watching the fire dance around the walls, making puppets of the shadows. Out of the ashes rose a hero, slowly, but a hero nonetheless.
Series: Short Stories [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1753738





	Hero Nonetheless

**Author's Note:**

> First paragraph is a prompt from @/writing-ideas-inc on Tumblr
> 
> TW: Blood, war, death, grief, mentions of kidnapping

Out of the ashes rose a hero. Of course, not quickly. The ragged inhale of breath only led to coughing. Dirt and soot streaked across his face and clothes, the air thick with ash. Eyes fluttering, he slowly came to awareness, watching the fire dance around the walls, making puppets of the shadows. Out of the ashes rose a hero, slowly, but a hero nonetheless.

Dazed and bewildered, he looked around to see his friends and comrades, their bodies strewn haphazardly over the floor. The stone slick with blood that seeped into the cracks between the masonry, soaking into the earth beneath.

Embers from the fires flew in the air like fireflies on a dark night, the smoke filtering in through cracks in the doors at either end of the room and charging in through the smashed windows; just like the army that had ravaged the castle mere moments ago.

They'd mounted an attack on the kingdom and were set to reclaim the throne, but something got in their way. Well, more like someone...

He'd punched and kicked and ducked, dodged and weaved his way through hordes of soldiers on the battlefield until he reached the leader, the commander. The King.

A tall, broad man with a dangerous air about him, he held himself with the bravado only a man certain of his victory could carry.

He was feared, far, wide and within his own kingdom; which is why when our hero raised his head to meet the King's commanding gaze, the king was amazed.

Amazed that a simple errand boy would dare challenge him.

"Is this who your bastard king sends to defeat me?"

"No. This is personal." The king raised an expectant eyebrow and cocked his head to the side slightly, only entertaining our hero for his own enjoyment.

"Do you remember my sister, Eva? One of your mercenaries kidnapped her. Two years ago today."

The king waited, taunting him. He was greatly enjoying the interaction.

"Oh yes. She made an excellent servant. Before I cut her heart out that is."

Flooded with overwhelming rage, our hero ripped a short sword out from a dying soldier and whirled around to face the king again.

"Then you shall die as she did." He growled out through grinding teeth and a clenched jaw. His already-racing heart beat rose again as the king lifted his sword, accepting our hero's challenge.

To test the waters, and our hero's skill, the king jabbed his sword in his direction. The blow was blocked effortlessly.

"Pretty good. How about this?" Our hero half-expected the king to go easy on him. Oh how wrong he was.

The king threw slash after slash, blow after blow, with such ferocity that our hero believed he would be dead within the half hour. The king's sword forcing our hero backwards, he crashed into the armor of soldiers and stumbled over the uneven ground, whether it was over clumps of grass and shrubbery, or dead bodies.

He jumped over a couple of small fires lit by the canons from both armies and stooped under flaming beams and stones falling from the collapsing turrets above.

Eventually they fought their way to the castle and into the throne room, where many of our hero's friends and allies stood, weaponless, as enemy soldiers advanced.

In a few short minutes they had all been slaughtered by the king's men, screaming as Death claimed them as his own.

Our hero heard but didn't fully acknowledge the cries, as he was too preoccupied with staying alive.

The king had cruelly been keeping him alive, tormenting him, maiming him enough to cause him great pain, yet never enough to kill him.

A fatal mistake on his part.

Our hero had read his adversaries fighting style and when the opportunity arose, he plunged his sword deep into the King's unarmoured leg, forcing him to kneel before him.

He knocked the king's sword away from his bloody hand, which proved to be much easier as the king was weakened by the pain. He picked it up and examined it. It was simpler that he'd imagined, with only subtle gold inlay on the hilt.

He held the sword a hair's breadth away from the king's throat, ensuring the fact that his fiercely triumphant eyes would be the last thing the tyrannical ruler would ever see.

Arching his back and pulling his arm behind him, he swung with all his might. The king's head fell to the floor as his body slumped, finally hitting the stone with a thump.

Our hero, at the sight of the king's head separated from his body, fell to one knee. He felt his insides churn sickeningly.

It was a fitting end for such a ruthless creature. Coming to his end at the point of his own sword.

There he knelt, tuning out the sounds of the fires, the sounds of the fighting, the sounds of grief.

The battle was over.

They'd won.

But he wasn't overjoyed.

He was tired.

Tired of fighting. Tired of avenging his sister. Tired of having to be the hero, time and time again.

Out of the ashes rose a hero. Of course, not quickly. The ragged inhale of breath only lead to coughing. Dirt and soot streaked across his face and clothes, the air thick with ash. Eyes fluttering, he slowly came to awareness, watching the fire dance around the walls, making puppets of the shadows. Out of the ashes rose a hero, slowly, but a hero nonetheless.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Have a great day! Please leave comments and kudos <3


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